Jurek was thrilled to have his own slingshot. He practiced constantly, aiming at whatever did or didn't move—for the time being, without much success.
Franek remembered his promise. One hot day he invited Jurek to come with him and the horses to the stream.
"Bareback?" Jurek marveled, looking at the unsaddled horses.
"What did you think?" Franek said. "You don't wash a horse with its saddle. Come on, I'll help you up. The spotted mare is easy to ride."
Jurek sat on the spotted horse, looking for something to grab onto.
"Hold on to its mane," Franek said.
He mounted the other horse with a third in tow and they set out. Once Jurek got over his fear of swaying so high off the ground, he was joyful.
They reached the stream. The horses were happy to be in the water and frisked about in it. Jurek and Franek waded in after them and Franek took some rags from his pocket.
"Rub her down well," he told Jurek, pointing to the mare. "She likes it."
It was hard work. But when the two of them rode back into the village on the horses, Jurek felt full of pride.
From now on Pan Wrubel would sometimes let him ride the spotted mare to pasture. He rode her bareback, with a bit and reins to help control her.
He still hadn't managed to hunt a grouse with Franek's slingshot. Meanwhile, he hunted smaller birds with a horsehair. Each time he set a trap for them he thought of Marisza—of her braids and her dress and her fingers tossing the jacks. Do you know why I'm nice to you? Thinking of those words gave him a good feeling.
But Zygmunt still had it in for him. He was just waiting for a chance to get even. One day he stopped to watch a peeing contest. Jurek stood in the line of waiting boys and didn't notice him. Before he knew it Zygmunt came over and grabbed his hands, baring his penis.
"I knew it!" he crowed. "I knew it! You're a Yid. Now you'll come with me. The Germans will be happy to have you."
Jurek squirmed from his grasp and ran off. Zygmunt chased him but soon gave up and went to get his father.
Jurek ran back to the house. Pan Wrubel and his sons were outside, fixing a wagon. Jurek told them what had happened.
"Zygmunt?" Viktor said. "That's what you might expect of someone from his family."
"You lied to us," Pan Wrubel told Jurik. "You put us all in danger."
Franek defended him. "He had no choice."
"You be quiet!"
"Franek's right," Viktor said.
"What's the matter, wasn't he a good worker?" Franek asked. "Are you going to turn him over to the Germans just because of Zygmunt's family?"
"No," his father said. "You're right, Franek. Call your mother."
Jurek went to the barn to get his jacket and his knapsack. In it were the shoes the pretty woman had given him.
Pani Wrubel was waiting for him when he returned. She had some food that she put into his knapsack.
"May Jesus Christ watch over you Jurek," she said.
"Of course he will," said Viktor. "He was a Jew, too."
Pan Wrubel threw his hammer down on the wagon. "You sinner!" he shouted angrily. "How dare you talk like that? You'll go to hell!"
"I'll meet you there, Papa," Viktor said.
"Stop it," Pani Wrubel begged. "Say goodbye to the boy. He's just a poor orphan."
Franek and Viktor walked him past the last house of the village. They were afraid Zygmunt and his father might waylay him along the road. Jurek turned around and watched them walk back. He looked sadly at the houses of the village. He had thought that he had at last found a farmer to stay with until the end of the war.
9. A True Friend
Jurek found his next family by accident. He had stepped out of the forest to look on the road for some stones for his slingshot. A farmer was sowing in his field, reaching into the sack on his shoulder and casting the golden seeds with a broad, regular movement as if doing the Lord's work. Fascinated, Jurek walked closer for a better look. It was lunchtime. A woman came from the village to bring the farmer food. Jurek stepped up to them and greeted them.
"Are you hungry, boy?"
He nodded.
"Help yourself," the farmer said.
He crossed himself and sat down with them to eat. After putting a few questions to him, the woman turned to her husband and said, "Jozef Wapielnik is looking for a cowherd. Shall I take the boy with me to the village?"
The farmer nodded.
Jurek went with the farmer's wife. The village nestled at the foot of a small hill. On the hilltop were the ruins of an impressively large building, an old fortress or perhaps a castle. The woman brought him to a big, well-maintained farmhouse and knocked on the door. A somber-looking farmer opened it.